


Nothing Left to Take Away

by Cantatrice18



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Loss of Control, Married Couple, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 20:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15590559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: While searching Syndrome's island, Helen finds her husband's prison cell and discovers Bob in the process of strangling a beautiful blonde.





	Nothing Left to Take Away

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by EmonyDeborah's amazing work "10 Seconds Sooner".

A dozen bars tracking energy usage, but only one soaring off the charts. "Bob," Helen whispered triumphantly.

She took off running, aware of everything around her and ready to attack at a split second's notice. If the shadowy rocket-building villains on this godforsaken island tried to keep her from her husband, well, they'd soon regret it. She might have played housewife for 15 years, but she was still Elastigirl, dammit. No one messed with Elastigirl. 

Ten minutes and several close calls later she skidded to a halt, pressing herself against the wall of the corridor and oozing her way toward an open doorway from which a familiar voice could be heard. It struck her as odd that the door to Bob's cell would be open when his captors clearly wanted to keep him subdued. Warily, she stretched her neck until she could see around the corner and into the cell.

It was larger than she'd imagined, cavernous, in fact. At the far end a terrifying contraption that resembled a giant, glowing eye stood dormant atop a dais, while close by a console of some sort held a variety of switches and screens. Heavy-looking spheres (shackles, she assumed) lay open and discarded on the ground. But her eyes travelled at once to the figure standing on the polished black dais, a figure she knew better than any other. 

Bob was not alone. In his outstretched arm he held a woman of the sort Helen had only seen on magazine covers, a tall, slender goddess dressed in an impeccable grey suit. She appeared to be hovering several feet off the floor. It took Helen a moment to realize what was really happening, but when she did she felt all the air escape her lungs. Bob's hand was clenched around the woman's throat, his face dark with uncontrolled rage. "What more can you take away from me?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. The woman writhed, trying to free herself, desperate for air. Helen knew from experience that Bob's grip could crush steel. No non-super could possibly compete.

The woman's struggles were weaker now, but Bob showed no sign of relenting. A pang of fear struck Helen's chest like a blow. Had they done something to him, the people on this island? Made him into a, a "killing machine" the way newspaper headlines liked to describe ruthless villains in the old days? She took a step into the chamber, wary in case the door slammed shut behind her, trapping her inside. "Bob," she called quietly. "Bob," she repeated, when he didn't move. "Can you hear me? Let her go."

She saw the woman's amber eyes flick in her direction, wide with terror. "Bob," Helen snapped, trying to break through her husband's rage-fueled haze. "Listen to me. You're hurting her. Put her down, now."

She spoke the last word in the tone she usually reserved for their kids. Instead of listening, her husband just raised his captive higher, wrapping his other hand around the woman's ribs as though about to crush her. "They killed you," Bob thundered. "They murdered you."

Beneath the fury Helen could hear the pain in her husband's voice. The sound sparked something in her, a sympathetic reaction. Her hands went first, reaching out to stroke his cheek, to caress his broad shoulders. The rest of her followed until she stood between his arms, stretching upward until she blocked his view of the half-strangled woman. "They didn't kill me," Helen murmured. "I'm here. I'm right here."

He blinked, hope mingling with the anger and sorrow she still saw etched on his features. "Helen?" he murmured hoarsely.

There was nothing else to do. Helen kissed him, pressing her body against him as she wrapped her arms around him the way she'd done on their wedding day. She heard a thud behind her as he released the woman from his grip, then felt his hands clutching her waist, drawing her even closer. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered when they broke apart for air. 

"Tell me about it," she replied, with an attempt at her old curt humor. The truth was she'd nearly despaired of finding him. It was one of the many reasons she'd left the kids behind in the cave: she couldn't bear it if Dash or Violet had stumbled upon their father's body. 

Bob's mind had clearly gone in a similar direction. "Where are the kids?" he asked, looking around as though expecting to see them hiding in the corner.

"They might have triggered the alert," came a husky voice from near the floor. Helen looked back to see the blonde woman pushing herself up to a sitting position, face still pale from her ordeal.

Blonde.

Helen hadn't even noticed, too intent upon stopping Bob from committing murder. Pieces fell into place: the hair on the jacket, the weight loss, the car. She felt herself grow cold, but forced herself to focus on the woman's words, and not her enviable figure. "Now our kids are in danger?"

Helen took off running, Bob at her side. "If you suspected danger why'd you bring them?"

"I didn't bring them, they stowed away, and I don't really think you're striking the right tone here . . ."


End file.
